


Mortal Men

by calibrationsschmalibrations (chickenjordanbleu)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Blood Pack - Freeform, Disability, Gen, Kepral's Syndrome, Mortality, Normandy - Freeform, Vrolik syndrome, omega - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenjordanbleu/pseuds/calibrationsschmalibrations
Summary: Bedridden Thane and Joker must defend the Normandy from a mercenary attack while the rest of the crew is on shore leave.Thought it would be cool to have two characters who never interact come together and muse about illness and mortality. Probably in three-ish chapters?





	

“Mr. Moreau, your condition will not improve if you continue to bear weight on that leg,” said Thane. He was lying serenely on a cot in the med bay. Dr. Chakwas had dragged a limping Joker by the ear back into the clinic after he tried escaping to the bridge again.

 

“You’re damned right,” said Chakwas. “Try that again and I will officially confine you to the med bay and call in Grunt to guard the door.”

 

“Doc, why can’t you just give me some medi-gel and let me go?” whined Joker.

 

“Don’t be a fool. Your Vrolik syndrome slows down the healing process even with the aid of medi-gel,” replied the exasperated Dr. Chakwas. “Luckily, the injury wasn’t too serious.”

 

The crew had been on edge lately preparing for the impending mission to fight the Collectors, so someone had proposed a little party on the crew deck last night. The Normandy docked at Omega and Jack picked up snacks and a sizable supply of ryncol and Batarian ale. Joker had limped down from the bridge just for the occasion. The party was heating up when Joker, tipsy going on drunk, clambered onto the mess hall table to give a toast to Commander Shepard...and promptly tripped and fell, fracturing his hip. It was a fall that wouldn’t have hindered most people, but Joker had a genetic disorder that left his body without a certain type of collagen, meaning his bones were extremely weak and brittle.

 

Thane, meanwhile, was in poor shape after a mission on humid Sur’Kesh. His Kepral’s syndrome was acting up, and he had a consumptive, bloody cough and belaboured breathing. Dr. Chakwas put him on extra oxygen, just in case. She recommended they both stay in the med bay to minimize risk of complications.

 

Thane and Joker mostly sat across from each other on hospital beds in uneasy silence while Dr. Chakwas intermittently checked on them. Today, the rest of the crew was on shore leave on Omega, and they were the only three people left on the ship. Thane could only meditate for so long. The Commander had told him to get to know the crew...

 

“I don’t believe we have spoken before, Jeff,” said Thane, breaking the silence. “Tell me about yourself.”

 

“Well, first of all, don’t call me Jeff. It’s just Joker.”

 

“Only I call him that,” chimed EDI. Joker and Thane looked up at the ceiling. Sometimes Joker forgot it was always listening.

 

“Eavesdropping again, EDI?”

 

“I apologize Jeff--I will leave you two alone. Just updating you on ship’s systems, like you asked. Everything is normal.”

 

“Thanks, EDI.”

 

“I am detecting one abnormality on the station, however. There are several power outages in the docking bay. I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned about, but I will keep you informed.”

 

“Copy that.”

 

The drell turned and spoke again. “How did you break your hip?”

 

“I, um, fell. Next topic.”

 

“Very well, when did you get the name Joker?”

 

“Flight school. It was ironic, and not my idea. Apparently I didn’t smile a lot.”

 

“Interesting.”

 

“I don’t know why everyone got on my case about it. I was there to become a pilot, not join the circus. I smiled once I graduated top of my class, I can tell you that.”

 

“Very impressive.”

 

Each waited for the other to say something else. They looked at the ceiling and the floor, but not at each other.

 

Joker tried a bit of gossip. “So, how bout Garrus and the Commander? Word on the ship is--”

 

A pained look crossed the drell’s face and he looked like he’d been kicked in the gut. _Nope, nope, nope. Bad idea._

 

“--nevermind.” More silence.

 

“Man, I wish I was on Omega right now,” Joker tried again. “A little seedy, but a club’s a club, you know?”

 

Thane blinked in his lizard-esque way, but said nothing. _What’s he thinking about?_ thought Joker.

 

“Ahem. I suppose you’re not into that.”

 

“It would be nice to shop around for some rifle mods. I shall ask Garrus to look for some.” Thane sighed and rolled his eyes--the only time you could really see the white part at all. “Truthfully, I don’t see why I shouldn’t leave the ship.”

 

“I know, right?” _Finally got a rise out of him,_ Joker thought.

 

“Dr. Chakwas is concerned that I might ‘faint.’ I have trained as an assassin since I was six. I have been shot at my whole life, and a mercenary once knifed my arm down to the bone. I do not ‘faint’, even as short of breath as I am.”

 

“Wait, since you were six?”

 

“My parents made a pact for me to serve the hanar. It is what I was raised for.”

 

“What was your most interesting kill?”

 

“I prefer not to sensationalize them in that way, but I did have an interesting time when I was first starting out. I was sixteen. I was targeting an asari diplomat who had conned the hanar in a trade deal, but she was heavily guarded and kept up a biotic barrier almost everywhere she went. I had to scale a ten-story building to get into her apartment where she finally let her guard down. I have to say that one looked kind of bad...an adolescent watching a beautiful asari alone in her home.”

 

“Eyyy, drell do have a pulse,” Joker quipped.

 

The drell laughed ever so subtly. He was rather stoic, but not unfriendly. Joker sighed. Might as well trust the other sickly kid.

 

“You know, I’ve had Vrolik’s syndrome since I was born. My brittle bones snap as easily as toothpicks, but you don’t have to move around a lot for piloting, so it’s mostly not a big deal. But still...shit, the captain came back from the dead and here I am in the med bay from falling off a damn table.” Joker clenched his fists.

 

“I’d like to remind you, Mr. Moreau, that Shepard was reconstructed with state-of-the-art cybernetics and and genetic engineering. Your situation is by no means directly comparable. Your resilience and will to prove yourself are admirable, but at the end of the day you also have to accept that you have a disability, and it will slow you down sometimes.”

 

Joker stood up suddenly, and then winced. He jabbed his finger at Thane.

 

“No. I can’t let it slow me down, because then I get passed over. I had to literally steal the Normandy to prove I was the best pilot for the job, and I am the best goddamned pilot in the galaxy. I don’t want anybody giving me anything because they pity me. When I want something, I fight to get it.”

 

“It doesn’t have to slow you down _all_ of the time, just sometimes. Here and now, for example, the crew knows you and respects you as a pilot. They don’t pity you. You can be vulnerable to them--although I know you are still embarrassed about the fall.”

 

“Hmph,” Joker muttered under his breath. “Doesn’t seem to slow you down.”

 

Joker sat back down and thought for a moment. _State-of-the-art…_

 

“Do you ever think about how much money Cerberus spent rebuilding Shepard? If they sunk a quarter of that money into research for Vrolik and Kepral’s syndrome, we’d have a cure for our ails already.”

 

“I do admit that sometimes I can’t quite reconcile the Lazarus Project ethically,” Thane said, pensively. “Retrieving someone from the afterlife doesn’t exactly sit well with my beliefs--Kalahira would not approve. And you are correct, the resources needed to resurrect one person could save countless other lives. However, I believe in the purpose Shepard was brought back for. Stopping the Reapers would seem to be her destiny.”

 

“And I got in the way of it.”

 

Thane gazed at him curiously. “How do you mean?”

 

“After the Collector ship attacked, the Commander stayed behind to help me get off the ship. If I hadn’t slowed her down, maybe she wouldn’t have died.”

 

“I understand how that might provoke feelings of guilt. However, it does not do much good dwelling on it now. It is as humans say, ‘water under the bridge.’”

 

“Maybe if she lived we wouldn’t have to work with Cerberus. They still give me the creeps.”

 

“It is possible. I don’t like it either. However, the Council continued to ignore the Reaper threat the last two years. Cerberus is still the only group expending enough resources to fight the Collectors. If Shepard trusts them, I do too.”

 

The drell reclined back on his bed and breathed deeply through his nose tube. Joker was unsure what to talk about. Thane wasn’t the warmest conversationalist, and his manner made Joker feel a bit awkward.

 

“So... you said you were religious?” Joker blurted out. _Well, that was heavy. Good job, Joker,_ he thought to himself.

 

“I am. I know spirituality is uncommon among humans nowadays. Prayer gives me comfort, though, and my faith has helped me come to terms with my condition.”

 

“Never helped me.”

 

“We seem to cope very differently.”

 

“I’m not just coping. I don’t just *accept* the circumstances in my life. If I can, I change them.”

 

“As do I. I cannot, unfortunately, change the fact that I am dying.”

 

Joker’s eyes widened. He knew Thane had Kepral’s syndrome, but he hadn’t heard it was fatal.

 

“I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

 

“That’s alright. As you said, I don’t need pity.”

 

The tense silence from before returned.

 

“What’s it like?”

“Kepral’s syndrome? It is similar to cystic fibrosis in humans. Over time my lungs absorb less and less oxygen. A thick mucus makes it hard to breathe, and my lungs are prone to infection. I’ve been told I have less than a year left.”

 

“Have you made peace with it?”

 

“You come to accept death as a part of life when you kill people for a living.”

 

“I mean...we all have to accept death on this mission,” Joker said. “No one’s ever made it through the Omega-4 relay. I guess I lose myself flying the Normandy and I forget to think about it. But I’m not ready. I don’t think I could ever be. We all say, _oh of course I’d put my life on the line to save humanity_ but that’s just bravado. Everyone’s scared. Maybe it’s easier for you knowing you’re going to die anyway. You can focus on what you do best.”

 

“And that is?”

 

“Sniping Collectors right between the eyes. If they have eyes.”

 

Thane chuckled. He liked Joker--they could bond over their illnesses. Shepard was right. He’d spent so many years mired in assassinations, then so many years not wanting to think about Irikah that he shut people out. Maybe friendship was what he needed now.

 

“Jeff, we have a problem,” chimed EDI suddenly. “A group of Blood Pack mercenaries has overridden security controls on the station and has blocked access to the docking bay. They are trying to brute force the Normandy airlock. I am patching through a comm link to the Commander.”

 

Chakwas returned to find out the situation. Joker hobbled over to the one console in the med bay. “Commander, what’s going on? Are mercs seriously trying to loot the Normandy?”

 

“It seems like it,” said Shepard, with a little static in the comm link. “Aria thinks they might be after information too, but we’re not sure what. I can’t believe they got the jump on us like this. They must’ve known most of the crew was gone.”

 

“What do we do?”

 

“Try to hold out until we can get to you. Protect the armory, engineering, and the AI core if you can. Thane’s there, he can help you. Shepard out.”

 

Joker and Dr. Chakwas looked expectantly at Thane.

 

_Well, this should be good._

  



End file.
